


Wanted

by sinestrated



Series: Past Tense [11]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Violence, Din is soft, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Protective!Paz, Tender Sex, post-Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinestrated/pseuds/sinestrated
Summary: When a bounty goes horribly wrong, Paz helps Din pick up the pieces.
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Paz Vizla
Series: Past Tense [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675399
Comments: 12
Kudos: 259





	Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> I erred on the side of overtagging for this. I consider the content of this story attempted rape, but I understand that line is blurred for a lot of people.
> 
> This fic is entirely self-indulgent. As such, it's dripping with sap and melodrama and super soft Mandos and I regret nothing.

He came awake both fast and slow, everything sluggish and strange even as adrenaline surged through him in a wave. Din groaned and turned his head, heart pounding. What happened? Where was he?

The room around him was dark and the air smelled musty; a storage chamber perhaps, or an empty hangar long disused. The only illumination came from a stark light ring stamped into the crumbling ceiling, dirty white light that did nothing to help his vision so he reached to turn on his helm light—

_ Clank! _ His heart leaped into his throat. He knew that sound, it was...no. Fuck! He yanked at his wrists, bound tight above his head but there was no give no matter how hard he pulled because they were his own goddamned handcuffs, someone had trapped him with his own gear!

His feet, too, were immobilized—a quick glance down showed thick tethers around his ankles just above his boots, tied securely to a...grate? No, he realized as metal scraped against his back. It was a bedframe. He’d been tied to an old rusting bedframe, strung up and spread out like an animal for slaughter. Fuck, this wasn’t good.

The panic surged up sudden and hot, throat tightening as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest so Din forced a thin breath in and out of his nose, trying to relax. Okay. Quick assessment: his armor was gone, leaving just the cold air of the room biting through his thin undersuit. But his helm was still on, and his boots, so whoever had captured him either had been too lazy to bother disarming him completely, or knew something of the Creed. Could he reach his boot-knife? He could feel the firm shape of the holder pressed against his calf, solid and comforting. Maybe if he moved carefully, twisted his ankle out of the tether—it wasn’t that tight, there was a little give so maybe—

“Oh-ho, he’s awake!”

Din froze, staring as several shapes peeled out from the darkness. Two human men and a woman, and a short-statured Kannoy, facial whiskers twitching in pleasure as he perched on the edge of the bedframe, grinning wide. “Man, we musta overshot that tranq or somethin’, thought we killed you by accident!”

The humans laughed. They wore the mismatched, ragged attire of petty criminals the galaxy over, and looked like they hadn’t washed in weeks. The Kannoy, evidently their leader, leaned forward with a sneer. “Thought you were gonna bring us in, did ya, Mando? Well, we sure got the drop on you, didn’t we?”

And just like that, he remembered. Greef, looking like he’d aged ten years as he talked through the job: seven people in as many months dead on the planet of Cavawa, raped and beaten and brutalized almost beyond recognition. Their latest victim had been a teenaged girl, the granddaughter of a prominent New Republic judge. It was this man, grief-stricken and boiling over with desperate hatred, who had commissioned the Guild to find and apprehend those responsible.

Din hadn’t even had to think about it. He’d glanced at Paz, the tight line of his husband’s shoulders and the glint of fury in his eyes as they shared the same thought:  _ Ruun. _ If there were people out there with this much evil inside them, he and Paz owed it to their children to rid the galaxy of the vermin.

_ Paz. _ Din swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. Where was his husband? Last he’d seen him, the older Mandalorian was making his way toward the market district, hoping to rustle up some intel from the locals. Din, meanwhile, hit the cantina as he always did, looking for leads, but hours later when the sun was setting and he hadn’t gotten anything he’d stepped back out into the alleyway behind the building, intent on contacting Paz when they’d jumped him. Thrown him into the nearest wall and before he could recover something thin and sharp pierced his neck beneath his helm, and then everything went black.

And now here he was, staring as the Kannoy and his band of henchmen watched him with smugness and triumph and, oh gods, yes,  _ hunger _ in their eyes. Cold fear dripped down his spine and he had to bite down on the urge to scream. They’d caught him. They had him bound and helpless and utterly at their mercy, and  _ where the fuck was Paz? _

“Oy!” The Kannoy smacked his boot, the grin from before flipping into a violent snarl so fast Din’s heart skipped a beat. “You answer when we talk to you, boy!”

“Maybe he’s out again,” one of the men said. “Can’t tell with that bucket on his head.”

“Yeah, let’s take it off!” cried the woman, but the Kannoy spun on them with a growl.

“No! This is a  _ Mandalorian! _ ” He dragged the word out slow as if savoring the taste. Something entered his eyes then, something greedy and insane as he turned his gaze back on Din. “Gotta keep it on, oh yes. Gotta keep it on  _ the whole time. _ ”

As if responding to some silent order, the three humans came to stand around the bed. Their eyes gleamed in the half-darkness, their gluttonous gazes seeming to leave black poisonous trails all over his body and Din couldn’t help the tiny noise that escaped him, terror running ice-cold through his veins. No. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t be here, it wasn’t real, any moment now he’d wake up from this nightmare and Paz would be there and everything would be okay—

Fingers grabbed for the clasp of his pants and he cried out and twisted away. “No! Don’t touch me!”

“Ah, fuck, I love it when they fight!” the woman squealed, high-pitched, as the man beside her let out a groan.

“Oh yeah, Bikken, you make ‘im scream, oh fuck, ain’t never heard a Mando cry...”

Din didn’t hear the rest, too busy yanking at the cuffs, uncaring of the agony searing through his wrists as he tried to buck the Kannoy off him. “No!  _ No! _ Please let me go, don’t hurt me, Lothir have mercy—”

“The fuck is he saying?” one of the men asked, and the Kannoy just shook his head, that terrible greedy grin hovering over Din’s face as sharp-nailed fingers grabbed Din’s crotch, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

“Gotta be their language or whatever, Mandor or somethin’, I don’t give a fuck, can’t wait to tear him up—”

And then his pants were being yanked open and the Kannoy’s dirty paw reached inside, found him and grabbed him and the dam of panic broke. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, everything a wave of all-consuming, world-shattering  _ terror _ because they were going to hurt him, they were going to—

He screamed, everything inside bottled up and cast out in that one broken wail, a call from that deepest, most primal part of himself, a call for his mate. “ _ No! _ Please! Help me, find me—husband!  _ Paz! _ ”

And the door exploded.

At first Din didn’t even register the sound, everything terror and panic and mind-numbing fear. But then the thick piece of metal sailed right across the room, catching the woman straight in the face and sending her spinning into the opposite wall with a shriek. And everything changed.

The Kannoy screeched, fury and surprise rolled into one. The two remaining men staggered back, grasping for weapons that weren’t there. And as Din stared, panting, a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped through the smoking remains of the doorway, dim overhead light glancing off of solid, dark blue armor.

_ Paz. _ Like an answer to a prayer, Din’s husband was here.

Paz didn’t wait. Din had just enough time to meet the older man’s gaze, to acknowledge and find comfort in the slight lowering of his head that was the prelude to his husband’s unstoppable rage. And then Paz lifted his blaster and shot out the light.

The room plunged into darkness, and chaos descended. 

“Get ‘im!  _ Get ‘im! _ ” the Kannoy screamed, even as bright red bolts flashed out from the blackness, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Shrieks and howls of agony rose up as the smell of charred flesh and blaster discharge filled the air, followed by the solid  _ thump _ of something being thrown into a wall. The Kannoy was still screeching “ _ Getim getim ge— _ ” when he was suddenly yanked off Din with a yelp.

Still gasping for breath, Din counted the next few moments by sound. The Kannoy wailed, high-pitched and terrified. “Please, no, I’ll do anything—” Followed by a solid  _ crunch _ of something breaking, and then the Kannoy screaming. No words, just screaming. And another  _ crunch. _ And another.

Screams melted into thin shuddering gasps.  _ Crunch. _ Then gurgles.  _ Crunch. _

Then silence.

In the pitch-black quiet, Din struggled for breath, squinting into the inky darkness. What happened? Where was Paz?

And then, all of a sudden: light. It was so abrupt, so bright against the blackness and he couldn’t help but shy away until it roamed across the room to settle on him at last, followed by Paz’s voice: “Din?”

Till the end of his days he would never be able to categorize the noise he made then, somewhere halfway between a moan and a sob, vibrating on an undercurrent of residual terror. Whatever it was had Paz appearing at his side in an instant, his helm light bright and almost blinding in the darkness. “Din! Oh fuck, love, hang on, just gimme a second—”

He’d never been more relieved to hear the familiar hum of a vibroblade. An instant later the tethers on his ankles snapped loose and then Paz reached up past him, tugging at the cuffs for a brief moment before they too sprang open and Din didn’t wait, heaving himself off the bed and into Paz, uncaring that his entire body shook as he tried his level best to disappear into his husband.

Gods, he was here. If Paz hadn’t made it in time, if he’d been only a few minutes slower...

“Fuck, Din.” Strong arms wrapped around him, a hint of wetness in Paz’s voice as his husband squeezed him close. “Gods, are you okay? Baby? Talk to me. Din?”

He sounded so worried, panic and terror bordering on devastation and Din whimpered and burrowed closer, uncaring that it made their helms bump awkwardly together, he just...he couldn’t... “You came,” he whispered, as Paz tightened his hold. “You found me, you saved me, just...gods,  _ Paz... _ ”

“Yeah.” Paz’s gloved fingers dipped beneath his helm to cup the back of his neck, familiar and so safe. “I looked fucking everywhere, had to beat up like five separate people to get a lead but...gods, I’m here, Din. We’re okay.”

They held each other for a moment longer, nothing but the faint buzzing of the broken light and the rasping hisses of their breaths through their modulators. When at last the shaking subsided somewhat Din finally pulled back, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “We...We should probably get going.” They couldn’t stay here, especially if the authorities came by after all that noise.

Paz nodded and, with extraordinary gentleness, reached up to flick on Din’s helm light. “We gotta find your armor.”

Right; he’d forgotten he was just in his undersuit. Din couldn’t help the shiver and Paz quickly stepped forward, brushing a reassuring hand down his arm. “Don’t worry. It’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

It turned out the room was actually a living unit, though obviously not managed and little used. His light illuminated the bodies of his four attackers: the woman slumped against the wall with a fractured skull, the two men sprawled out with still-smoking blaster wounds. And the Kannoy. Din barely even recognized the mutilated lump of flesh and fur, half-dismembered and still bleeding sluggishly, but he gave it a savage kick nonetheless. He’d intended to bring them in alive, but now he couldn’t help but feel vicious satisfaction at the carnage Paz had wreaked. If anything, the client would probably pay them double.

“Here.” His husband’s voice rang out, and Din hurried to join him in the small space that was once a kitchenette. Sure enough, his armor lay in a haphazard pile in the corner, and Din watched as Paz stepped forward and picked up his chestplate, examining it in the sharp light. “Scratched but not damaged,” he said. “Come on.”

They’d armored each other up enough over the years that it was almost second nature for Din to stand obediently still as Paz circled him, gently but firmly locking each beskar piece into place. With each solid snap of metal he felt he could breathe more easily, this impenetrable layer of protection coalescing around his body, and by the time the older man finished with his cape Din could almost pretend everything was okay, that this was just another job, that nothing terrible had happened.

Almost.

Night had fallen on Cavawa by the time they stepped out, the air biting and crisp. Paz said nothing on the journey back to the Crest, but Din couldn’t blame him. He didn’t know what to say either, not now that they were out of that room with its awful memories. He just wanted to get the hell off this planet as quickly as possible.

Paz seemed to have the same idea because almost as soon as the ramp slid up behind them his husband nodded up at the cockpit. “I’ll get her underway. Should be a two-day journey back to Korribia.” He paused then, Adam’s apple working beneath his helm as he swallowed. “You, uh. You can stay down here if you want?” The last word lilted up like a question, an uncertainty and hesitation Din wasn’t used to hearing from his husband. Paz always seemed so sure of everything, from coordinating their jobs to caring for the kids to keeping their Covert safe. What did it mean that he was so tentative now?

His stomach abruptly dropped. Was...was Paz uncertain about  _ them? _

“Din?” Paz cocked his helm, and Din took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I...yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Okay.” Paz took a breath as if to say something, but nothing came out and he finally turned and began making his way up the ladder. Din swallowed and headed for the fresher.

He was wrong. He had to be. As he stood naked in the stall and the sonics whirred to life, Din leaned back against the hard metal and tried to breathe. He was panicking over nothing, reacting to a trauma the same way he’d seen happen to countless others throughout the years. Paz loved him. He  _ had  _ to.

A sharp twinge from between his legs and he hissed and glanced down at his penis, soft and flaccid and dull-looking under the harsh light. The place where the Kannoy had touched him despite his struggles and protests, had broken through all Din’s walls and brittle strength and  _ violated _ him. All his fighting prowess and experience hadn’t mattered; he’d still let them catch him, allowed them to tie him up and hurt him. If Paz hadn’t shown up when he had...

And to walk in and see Din like that, trussed up and helpless like a scared little child...fuck. Of course Paz would be having second thoughts. He’d married a warrior, after all, the tribe’s  _ beroya _ , who was supposed to be brave and cunning and fiercely independent. Not Din, the weakling who’d gotten himself jumped right out in the open, who could only scream and cry and beg for rescue while his captors did what they wanted with him.

No.  _ No. _ Paz was kind, the kindest person Din had ever known—he would never think that. Hadn’t he been so worried back there in the room? But maybe that didn’t mean anything. Maybe even then the doubts were already taking hold, that Din wasn’t  _ mandokarla _ as he’d thought, that he’d married a coward, someone unworthy of the Vizsla name, of the tribe, of—fuck—of their  _ kids... _

The tears came unbidden, a wave that rushed up and crashed through the levees and Din leaned his forehead against the wall and let himself cry, concealed within the thrumming embrace of the sonics. Gods, please let him be wrong. He couldn’t lose Paz, or Roan or Ruun or their last little one, not because of his weakness.  _ Please,  _ he thought, and didn’t know who he was asking but he hoped they listened anyway.  _ Please don’t leave me alone. _

But, as always, no one answered.

An eternity later, the sonics finally shut off and the stall snapped open. Din wiped his eyes and stepped out—and froze.

Seated on the edge of the rack with a pauldron in one hand and the decon wand in the other, Paz blinked and fixed him with a look that could only be described as careful. His armor lay in a pile at his feet, helm on the rack beside him, and for one instant Din couldn’t help the rush of relief at seeing his husband’s face. Paz still considered them family, still saw their bond as true.

...Unless he was just going through the motions. Unless he was preparing to divorce Din as soon as they got back to Korribia.

Oblivious to the swirling storm of his thoughts, Paz set the wand down and rose to his feet. “Uh. Hi.”

He looked so...normal, his hair tied up as usual and wearing that undersuit with the elbows Din had patched last year, and for one moment the urge to rush forward into the warmth and safety of his arms surged over Din so strong it got a little hard to breathe. He didn’t move, though. He no longer had the right.

“Um.” Paz didn’t seem to know what to say, glancing everywhere except at Din, and Din’s heart sank. “Are...Are you okay?”

What a stupid question. Of course he wasn’t okay: he’d just been kidnapped and almost raped, and now he was on the verge of losing his husband and his clan because his cowardice had been revealed to the world. What the fuck was Paz thinking, even asking him that?

He swallowed and looked away. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!”

“Okay, okay.” Paz threw up his palms and shuffled toward the ladderwell. “I guess I’ll just...I mean, you probably want to get dressed so...”

And Din almost laughed, even as his eyes prickled with tears. Oh sure, Paz was giving him his privacy now. It wasn’t as if they’d been married for almost four years or anything, as if they saw each other naked as often as not, as if Din had come to associate the firm press of his husband’s body against his with the unequivocal feeling of  _ home. _

Lothir have mercy, he was right. Paz didn’t love him anymore, couldn’t even stand to be in the same space as him. And why would he? He’d married a lie, everyone could see that now. Din Djarin was broken, nothing more than damaged goods. Weak. Worthless.

He was no Mandalorian, not anymore.

Paz made his way slowly to the ladderwell. Din let him go, too lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts. He had no choice; he would have to leave the Way. But maybe...maybe Paz would let him take the child with him, at least? Roan and Ruun would hate him, of course, no one wanted to be associated with a coward and especially not two proud, golden-hearted Vizsla children. But the baby...he’d found them first, had sacrificed everything for them. Surely Paz would let him...?

If he hadn’t been so busy spinning out into a black hole of despair and self-hate, he might’ve caught the way Paz paused with one hand on a rung. How the older Mandalorian stepped back from the ladder, shaking his head. How he muttered, “No, fuck,” before crossing back to him in three large strides.

As it stood, Din barely had time to register being grabbed before he was hauled into a kiss. His body responded immediately, more instinct than anything else as he whined and pulled Paz close, head spinning as their tongues tangled, as Paz’s scent exploded over him and wrapped him in the grounding comfort of safety and home. It was enough to bring fresh tears even as his mind skipped a few frames because Paz was kissing him, intent and passionate as always, like nothing had happened and they were still okay but didn’t that mean...?

And then they pulled apart but Paz quickly brought him close again, pressing their foreheads together so they breathed each other’s air and Din couldn’t help but swallow, the confusion and fear still roiling, yes, but beneath it all that first spark, that stubborn little ember of hope. “Paz?”

His husband shook his head and sighed, shaky. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just couldn’t...you probably don’t want anyone touching you right now and I don’t blame you but I just...I love you. So fucking much, Din.”

And even as Din blinked, even as something rose inside his heart, warm and bright and thrumming with hope, Paz lowered his gaze. “And you’re mad, I get it,” he said, soft. “I should’ve been watching your back, that’s my whole fucking job but instead I let you get taken and then I almost didn’t find you in time and...just. I’m supposed to protect you and I fucking  _ failed _ so I get it, you’re pissed but if you could just let me make up for it somehow—”

Din didn’t bother letting him finish. Paz made a high little noise, surprised and vulnerable when their lips pressed together once more but he didn’t protest, just wrapped his arms tighter around Din. The kiss seemed to go on forever before Din pulled back at last, and staring up at Paz all of a sudden he could see it, couldn’t believe he’d been so blind: those dark brown eyes full of fear and uncertainty, sure, but underneath it all the unwavering love, the solid foundation of Paz’s devotion that he never should’ve been so stupid as to question.

He swallowed and reached up to trace his husband’s face, the wrinkles just forming at the corners of his eyes and the little frown lines next to his mouth. The signs of several lifetimes lived in one, all the weight and stress Paz Vizsla chose to carry so that those he loved could be without burden. 

“Paz,” he said, because he had to know. “I’m not mad. I just...I thought you might not want me anymore, not after I got myself caught—”

“What?” The look that came over the older man’s face was so scandalized and disbelieving Din almost laughed. “Is that what you’ve been thinking—are you fucking—”

He looked ready to kill something all over again, indignation and protective anger evident in every fiber of his being and Din sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Paz’s shoulder, feeling as always his husband’s hold on him gentle and assured. And, just like that, all the self-loathing and judgment and fear inside him loosened and disappeared, wiped clean as a neat cauterization.

He never should’ve doubted Paz, not when he knew exactly the man he had married, the man who always took too much responsibility, whose love was as endlessly stubborn as the rest of him. Paz would never think less of him for something like this. His heart wasn’t capable of it.

And Din had never loved him more.

“Din?” A large palm stroked gently down his spine, Paz’s voice rumbling up between them low and comforting. “Does...this mean we’re okay?”

He huffed a laugh and finally relaxed, letting Paz take his entire weight, knowing his husband would support him. “Yeah. We’re a pair of giant fucking idiots, apparently, but yeah. We’re okay.”

Paz hummed and they settled into silence. Din closed his eyes and pressed close, breathing in his husband’s scent as he shifted against him to get comfortable and...oh.

He blinked, then glanced down between them to confirm...yep, that definitely was the clear outline of Paz’s cock, gently tenting the front of his pants. “You...You’re hard.”

The older man just shrugged. “I’ve got you naked in my arms, what’d you expect?” He nosed gently into Din’s hair, soft and unhurried. “Don’t worry, I’ll go take care of it late— _ ah, _ whoa, what’re you...”

But Din just tightened his grip as he stroked Paz through his pants. His husband shuddered and rocked forward, involuntary, and as he felt Paz’s cock grow even hotter and thicker in his hand a warm rush of arousal went through his own body, familiar and safe. Here was the evidence. Here was everything he needed to know.

“You want me,” he whispered, and Paz must not have liked the blatant surprise in his voice because strong fingers grasped his wrist to arrest his movement as his husband peered down at him, eyes dark with intent.

“Always,” Paz said, and the love, the utter devotion in his voice was enough to tighten Din’s throat. “You are my husband, no matter the circumstances or what shit comes our way. I will always want you.”

Din swallowed and goddamnit, there were the tears again but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Paz wouldn’t judge him, he was sure of that now, and he leaned forward to kiss just below Paz’s ear, tightening his grip on Paz’s cock and basking in his husband’s low moan. “Show me,” he whispered, as Paz panted against him. “Husband.  _ Show me. _ ”

Paz didn’t have to be told twice.

Strong hands seized his thighs and Din couldn’t help the started yelp as Paz lifted him, easy, and walked them over to the rack. His release was less than graceful, the older man depositing him onto the worn metal grate without ceremony but Din couldn’t bring himself to care, too busy sweeping everything off the bed as his husband stripped out of his tunic and pants. Paz didn’t wait; a moment later Din was being pressed back against the rack, Paz sealing their lips together as his husband’s larger body sank down atop his, and this.  _ This. _

He’d known for a long time how much he loved Paz’s size, all that power and coiled strength in the solid body of a warrior. But he’d never before felt it like this, the wall Paz made for him with his body against the rest of the world, protective and impenetrable. It was enough to make his head spin, the rush of safety and comfort that came from having Paz above him and around him and Din couldn’t help but whimper and pull his husband closer, spreading his legs wide and moaning when their erections pressed together, everything hot and slick and perfect.

Paz for his part seemed to understand because he moved to cover as much of Din as he could, almost his entire vision taken up by dark skin and soft eyes as he began to rock, dragging their cocks together in a slow, firm slide that sent sparks dancing up and down Din’s spine. He hissed and grabbed for his husband, his broad shoulders and firm buttocks, trying to pull him even closer and Paz just shifted to oblige, one hand closing around Din’s wrist to pin him down and—

Pain. Agony tearing up from his wrist and he couldn’t help the soft cry as everything flipped and suddenly he was back in that room, oh gods,  _ no,  _ cuffed and helpless as the Kannoy sneered down at him with his greedy glinting eyes—

“ _ Din. _ ” Another shift and suddenly Paz was there, his husband, his partner and protector in all things. Din shuddered and nosed at Paz’s face wherever he could reach, grounding himself in the rasp of Paz’s stubble against his cheek and the warm solidity of his husband’s body, pressed to him from shoulders to hips. He wasn’t there anymore. He  _ wasn’t.  _

“Stay with me, love,” Paz said then, and reached down between them to wrap a big hand around both their cocks and Din couldn’t help but groan and thrust up into it, the perfect friction and the hot sensual slide of his husband’s cock against his own.  _ Paz,  _ here and alive and promising to stay.

“That’s it,” the older man whispered, setting a firm, grounding rhythm, the hot throbbing head of his cock dragging over Din’s and sending heat and pleasure licking through his entire body. “I got you. You’re okay.”

And by all the fucking spirits, Din believed him. His palms slid across Paz’s sweaty shoulders as he hauled his husband close, turning to bury his nose in Paz’s neck, breathing in his scent, focusing on the delicious pressure and slide of them together. He  _ was _ okay. He wasn’t back in that room, Paz had saved him, he wasn’t weak or tainted or broken in any way if he still had the love of someone so strong. Paz  _ wanted _ him, now and forever, and gods, that was enough.

Given what had happened earlier he wasn’t expecting to come so soon but it was like he blinked and all of a sudden he was there, skirting that breathless, trembling edge, breath hitching as he thrust up into Paz’s fist, everything slick and hot and so, so good. “Oh fuck,” he whispered, clutching at his husband’s shoulders, world starting to narrow as his cock throbbed and his balls tightened up. “Oh fuck, oh gods,  _ Paz... _ ”

And Paz just hummed and pressed close, solid and comforting as always as he whispered, “Let go, Din,” and kissed him, nothing but safety and warmth and the unmistakable feeling of  _ home _ as he tightened his grip on them both, tripping all the pleasure circuits in Din’s brain at once. He moaned into Paz’s mouth and arched up into his hand and that was it, one last shove and he went tumbling over the edge, everything pleasure and heat and bright white light as his husband caught him and held him safe.

He came back to himself a few moments later to soft lips against his neck and a warm, slippery slickness all over his stomach. It was more than he’d expect from just his orgasm alone, and Din blinked down at the mess, hazy. “Oh.”

That got a laugh out of Paz, low and amused as his husband lay back on the rack and pulled Din to him, tucking them together in a perfect fit, as always. “Yeah,  _ oh. _ ”

“I’d say I’m sorry but...”

“For what, making me come just by being so fuckin’ hot? Yeah, Din, I’m totally pissed right now.”

He laughed, couldn’t help it really, and Paz’s eyes went soft. Slowly his husband lifted his wrist, frowning at the deep red bruises there for a moment before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the skin. “Don’t do that again, all right?” he murmured.

“Do what?”

“Trip down that rabbit hole where you hate yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.” Warm fingers touched his face, Paz watching him with a steady seriousness that settled somewhere deep in his soul. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

Din swallowed and kissed him, his heart full to bursting with love and thrumming warmth. “I won’t if you won’t,” he whispered against Paz’s lips, and felt more than saw his husband’s answering smile.

“It’s a promise,” Paz said, and just like that, it was. Din had never been more frightened in his life than today, but Paz got him through it. His husband, who loved him with the ferocity of an exploding star, who would tear the entire galaxy asunder to protect him and their children, who made promises he intended to keep.

And Din fully intended to return the favor.

The ship thrummed around them, protective and safe. Din curled into Paz and closed his eyes, letting himself settle into his husband’s warm embrace, allowing the solid thump of Paz’s heartbeat to pull him slowly but steadily toward sleep. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, whether he’d be able to put this behind him or would instead struggle with nightmares and flashbacks for months. But Paz would be here through all of it, supporting and loving him without hesitation or restraint. That, in and of itself, was the greatest healing he could ever wish for.

He sighed and let the darkness slowly pull him down, no longer threatening, no longer unsafe. He had his husband to watch his back, after all, a man who loved him without question, a fighter and a warrior and a steady barrier against all the terrors of the world.

Everything was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I may be departing the fandom after this. Nothing dramatic, just running out of juice, I think. Y'all got almost 100k words out of me in six months; that's pretty good.
> 
> **Permissions:** All my works, including this one, can be translated and podficced without first asking my express permission. I ask only that you credit me as the original author and provide a link back to the original work. For anything else, please ask first. Thanks.


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